


Leviticus 20:13

by analogDemon, kinghts



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Biblical References, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, World War I, explicit for later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 19:11:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/analogDemon/pseuds/analogDemon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinghts/pseuds/kinghts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“”If a man also lie with mankind, as he lieth with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination: they shall surely be put to death; their blood shall be upon them.”</p>
<p>Crowley isn't able to hold in his feelings for Aziraphale any longer and a several thousand year old friendship is compromised in consequence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leviticus 20:13

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter of my debut fic on ao3, every even numbered chapter will be written by the lovely and talented Kinghts!

Aziraphale flinched when he heard the doorbell twinkle. He sighed, slammed his book shut, and prepared himself to usher out the no doubt confused patron. “The adult book store is next door” he said in an exasperated tone. “Duly noted..” a smooth voice answered. Aziraphale gave a small smile but didn't look up. He didn't need to; Crowley never changed anyway.  
“Is it that time again?”  
He called out as he made his way to the back room. He lit his stove and put on his kettle. It was old and delicate and honestly should have crumbled away ages ago. But, it had been a gift from one of his oldest friends, and he always made sure to dust it off when Crowley stopped by.

“It appears that way.” Crowley said quietly, and much closer to Aziraphale’s ear than the angel had anticipated. Crowley tried hard not to laugh outright when his chubby friend nearly jumped out of his socks. Crowley’s long and storied career as purveyor of chaos had given him ample opportunity to perfect sneaking about and being generally mischievous.  
The tall dark demon pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and plopped down unceremoniously.

He and Aziraphale sat in relative silence waiting for the water to boil.  
“Quite a time its been here on Earth recently” said Crowley in passing  
“.. what with the “Great War” and all. Good for business, Russia kept me very busy.”  
“Yes good for business indeed.” Said Aziraphale smoothing out his shirt and fussing with a loose string.  
Crowley furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to say something but he didn't quite know what his question was.  
“How..is it..good for you? It’s justified murder on a grand scale, violent revolution, assassinations, what’s in it for your side?” He asked propping up his elbows on the table.

Aziraphale got up and took the now screeching kettle off of the stove and set out two mugs on the table.  
“Well,” he started as he poured for both cups, “people are sacrificing their lives, protecting loved ones, and praying every night for the war to end so they can come home. All that faith is very good for business.”

Crowley held his mug in silence for a moment thinking about heaven and hell, and pondering how different they could be if there was profit for both in the wars of men.

 

“Seems a little funny to me.” he said, taking a sip.

“Mmm” hummed Aziraphale in reply, as he began reading his book again.

Crowley glanced at the cover, though he knew what it was already. The bible was one the only books Aziraphale ever read (besides his Jane Austen collection, but Crowley wasn't supposed to know about that)  
Crowley chuckled lightly at the thought, which caught Aziraphale’s attention. “What, what is it?” he asked.  
“Nothing just you.”

“What do you mean me?”

“Just.. I don’t know, you being you.”

Cute was on the tip of his tongue but he pushed the thought away. It did him no good to think that way no matter how true it was. He and Aziraphale were friends but he was still a demon, and Azi still an angel and nothing could change that. He looked up and caught Aziraphale staring. The angel quickly looked away and cleared his throat.  
“I ought to put the kettle away then..” he said standing up.  
On his way over to the stove he tripped on his shoelace and managed to knock the kettle and a cup to the floor and send his head smashing into the metal.

“OH SHIT!” Crowley jumped out of his chair and ran over to his fallen friend.

“ugh FUCK!” blurted Aziraphale who then clapped his hands over his mouth and began to blush.  
For the second time that day he stifled a laugh at his usually clean mouthed friend. He helped the smaller man up to his feet and brushed him off just in time for Aziraphale to throw himself back on the floor. He was kneeling next to the broken kettle with a shocked look on his face.  
“oh no Crowley i’m so sorry i didn't mean to break it I've had it for centuries now.”

“Just fix it” said Crowley, trying to ignore Aziraphale’s swaying bottom which was now in the air while he picked picked up the individual pieces of broken pottery.

“But it’s not the same!” 

“I’m telling you don’t worry about it okay?” he mumbled, turning away to hide his flushed face.

Aziraphale continued to fuss with the broken pottery for several more minutes, picking up each piece and placing it carefully back on the counter, mumbling the whole time. At this point Crowley was biting his hand trying not to SCREAM at Aziraphale for being his cute fussy self. When suddenly, the angel let out a long huffy sigh and plopped down on the floor.

That was it. That was fucking IT. Crowley couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed Aziraphale by the shoulders and brought him to his feet.  
“Hey! What th-”  
Was all the angel could stammer out before Crowley awkwardly crushed their faces together. 

He held tight to the smaller man’s shoulders and shut his eyes hard not wanting to see Aziraphale until he knew his feelings were reciprocated. He sucked on Aziraphale's soft lips and waited for his shocked friend to respond, but nothing happened...

The demon pulled away with the sweet taste of Aziraphale’s hot saliva and earl grey swimming in his mouth and mind.

Crowley gently let go of his long time friend and looked down at his snakeskin shoes.

“You don’t have to say anything I understand; I’ll go now.”  
He grabbed his coat and made his way to the door never once chancing a look at Aziraphale, he couldn't bear to see his disappointed, disgusted, or otherwise dismal expression.

 

Aziraphale stood alone in his back room in shock, once again, flinching at the sound of his bell.  



End file.
